The Madwoman in the Attic
by Scarlet Secret
Summary: AU Series two. Vera makes her appearance at Downton Abbey and it puts someone entirely innocent in the firing line.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Alternative introduction of Vera in series two. I started writing this before the new series began and I really am glad I called her being a mental, although I might have gone a bit overboard, :)

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><p>Cora Crawley swept into the kitchen grandly – there was little she did without something of a flourish - hoping to find Mrs Hughes, or indeed O'Brien, and inquire where on earth her youngest daughter had vanished to once more.<p>

Since the advent of war Sybil had been rather notable by her absence from Downton and had been spending a great deal of time with Cousin Isobel, an acquaintance Cora didn't disapprove of but she'd still rather know where her own child was. Keeping track of Sybil herself had proved impossible and so she was relying upon the servants having seen something; they must have done, Sybil wouldn't be foolish enough to go out without telling anyone and if she was neglecting to tell her Mama then perhaps she was confiding in Mrs Hughes. And she seemed rather friendly with that chauffeur – Cora assumed he had been part of her plot to find Gwen a position – so perhaps he would know?

She froze. Instead of finding her two most trusted and loyal members of staff however she found a woman she was positive she had never seen before. She had dark hair and eyes and with a calculating, sharp face that immediately unnerved Cora: she was far from well-acquainted with _all_ of the servants but she refused to believe this woman had been here all along without her knowledge. This woman, whoever she was, didn't exactly look like a junior maid who might pass utterly unnoticed and Cora was not unobservant after all. No, she simply HAD to be new. But Mrs Hughes hadn't said anything about a new member of staff arriving and her Housekeeper was far too competent to _forget_ to mention such an arrival surely? She caught the dark eyes with her own and gave one of her most charming smiles, the sort that usually had footmen falling over themselves to help her.

"Hello? Are you looking for Mrs Hughes?"

The woman ran her eyes over Cora, causing the Countess' skin to crawl slightly, and a pleasant smile immediately appeared on her previously harsh face. Cora felt wary, she liked people who smiled genuinely and that was a fake, society-worthy smile if ever she had seen one and she had seen many. It had crept onto this mysterious woman's face without any effort and Cora had a feeling that trusting her with the silver might not be the wisest option. Indeed, one of the reasons she would never doubt O'Brien's loyalty was that the woman smiled so seldom Cora knew when she was being genuine, although it was impossible to explain that to Robert!

"Yes ma'am," the mystery woman possessed a soft Irish lilt that Cora couldn't help but think was somewhat charming, "She's interviewing me for a housemaid's position."

There was a slight bitterness to the pronunciation of the position and Cora had a good idea of why – really, this woman must be of an age with her lady's maid at least and she could only imagine how embarrassing _O'Brien_ would find having to apply for a position as a junior maid – times must be very hard indeed. She found that in all good conscience she couldn't blame the woman for her attitude, Cora was no great champion of the working classes but even she could feel sympathy for this particular plight. She could quite easily conjure up feelings of horror at the theoretical prospect of having to navigate the season again at her age, with all the competition being of an age with her daughters. It was a thoroughly distressing prospect.

"I'm Lady Grantham. Normally I don't hover around the kitchen waiting for my staff, but I cannot find a single one of them at the moment," she smiled at the Irishwoman. Perhaps she had been too quick to judge, after all, she knew from a lifetime of experience that looks could be deceptive – Violet had seemed rather friendly to begin with, Rosamund had been rather frightening and Cora had been unable to address the forbidding Carson for the first few months, regardless of the fact he had only been a first footman. "May I ask your name?"

The woman shot out of her seat at the sound of her name and immediately looked apologetic. "I'm sorry your ladyship, I didn't realise. I'm Vera. And I'd be happy to find them for you if you'd let me m'lady?"

Cora smiled warmly at her, wondering whether she could convince Mrs Hughes that they needed two head housemaids - really this woman was too obliging to be given what would presumably be a demotion. If nothing else she made a mental note to ask O'Brien to see she was treated well below stairs. Cora knew, as did everyone else in the house, that Miss O'Brien was not someone one wanted to be on the wrong side of, although Cora had the advantage of having the woman's job in her hand. She'd had to use her advantage only last week when Lady Rosamund had been present – someone Cora knew O'Brien was most definitely _not_ a great fan of – and her darling sister-in-law had required undressing. O'Brien had done it with her usual calm demeanour but Cora had later overheard her being less than charitable about 'liberties' been taken with her services and Cora had seen red – it had been a bad moment for them both and things had been tense ever since.

Perhaps this Vera could improve things though? With so many of the men gone the workload for the servants must have increased dramatically so another pair of hands, and her age suggested she would be an _experienced_ pair of hands, might be just what was needed.

She sighed in the kitchen, meeting Vera's eye again, she'd have to sort out her frayed friendship with O'Brien later and this was as good a start as any.

"That's very sweet of you Vera, but I'm sure I can manage it myself. I'm particularly keen to find my lady's maid – normally she's so good about being where I need her at the right time but I suspect all the staff must be having a party somewhere!"

Maybe they _were_? Perhaps it was someone's birthday and they had all convened in the yard or in the servant's quarters? It was possible she supposed. She didn't see most of the staff during the day and really had little idea what the itinerary of their days looked like – for all she knew they all had second jobs in a local tavern during the afternoon!

"Well, I'm no use to anyone just sat here m'lady," Vera smiled at her conspiratorially. "And I'm sure it'll stand me in good stead with Mrs Hughes if I help you before I even have a job here."

Cora laughed inwardly at the audacity. Oh, she must have been wrong with her immediate impression, she had been before after all. Perhaps Vera had been thinking of something or someone particularly unpleasant when Cora had first spotted her? Because this woman seemed utterly charming and she very much hoped Mrs Hughes would think so too: perhaps once the Housekeeper knew the opinion of the Countess her decision would be swayed?

"In which case I'd be delighted for your assistance. And I can show you a little of the house as we go…I'm sure after your display of gallantry Mrs Hughes will be very keen to offer you a position. I know I am."

She smiled once more before beginning to lead the way through the house, informing Vera of any points of interest as they ascended the stairs and liking the woman's intelligent eyes and small smile more and more. She seemed to be taking everything in wonderfully – the whereabouts of the servants quarters, the family rooms, the back stairs (Cora felt a little bit pleased with herself that she was giving Vera a rare opportunity for a maid to come upstairs via the main staircase), the ground floor – and Cora barely even noticed that they were now only feet away from her bedroom until Vera spoke.

"M'lady? Perhaps your maid is in your room?"

Cora considered the likelihood and decided that yes, perhaps O'Brien was running her bath. It was that time of day after all and perhaps once she was settled she could send O'Brien downstairs to show Vera more of the workings of the house from their side of things. Goodness, she hardly claimed to be an expert on how servants spent their days. She smiled warmly at the suggestion and nodded towards the door, "Let's go and check shall we?"

She entered the room and wondered over towards the bathroom, hearing Vera close the door behind her with a decisive click. O'Brien was nowhere to be seen and Cora heaved a sigh, where on _earth _was everyone today? She turned back to Vera with a rueful smile.

"She doesn't seem to be here."

"I'm sure she'll be close m'lady. I was never far away from my lady at my previous place."

For a moment Cora didn't register the words, instead she merely accepted the sympathetic tone but she soon realised what Vera ha said and smiled at her with the confusion of someone asking a question they already thought they knew the answer to.

"You used to be a lady's maid?"

The Irishwoman, after a moment in which Cora could have sworn Vera looked wary, nodded.

"Oh I'm so sorry, and here's me calling you Vera! What should I be calling you?"

"Bates."

Cora furrowed her brow, feeling a chill on her spine as she turned away from the other woman, trying to conceal her confused expression. It was hardly a common name and besides which, what did it matter if there was a connection? Just because Mr Bates had something of a shady past didn't mean that a woman – an _Irish_ woman – who happened to share his name was necessarily up to something.

_"Bates?"_

Vera acted quickly and ruthlessly before Cora could make any attempt at fighting back, although the Countess was so little expecting her movement that it was far from a fair fight, and Vera had bought a porcelain clock down on the back of Cora's head in a matter of seconds. As she slumped to the ground Cora realised that thought she hated to admit that she had been bested by any woman, Vera Bates – and _dear God_ how long hads it taken her to find out that part of her name! – was not a woman she intended to trifle with again.

As the world went dark and she lost consciousness Cora decided that in the future she would be more vigilant and never to turn her back on anyone again.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Poor Cora. She went down without a fight like a true girly-girl.

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><p><strong><span>2.<span>**

Sarah O'Brien was having a bad day. After a run in with Lady Grantham the previous week over whether her duties extended to seeing to Lady Rosamund sodding Painswick's she had dressed Cora in frosty silence that morning and was now unable to find the bloody woman to get her changed for the afternoon. Honestly! Was it really so hard for the bloody woman to just sit still in the same place she'd left her in?

More often than not she _had _in fact found Cora in the same position, or at least not far from the spot, and so it was that O'Brien was slightly perturbed to find her gone. She couldn't have left the house – god forbid Cora should _walk_ anywhere – because O'Brien had been downstairs to check with Mr Branson and no, her ladyship had not requested the car for the afternoon. So Sarah had checked the house and was now resorting to the grounds. Cora very rarely went for an impromptu walk but it was the only possibility left really, unless she'd been spirited away by gypsies or bandits, which seemed unlikely as Mr Carson wouldn't let any undesirable figures get within a mile of Downton.

She walked the perimeter of the entire house when she spotted Lady Rosamund coming towards the back entrance of the estate, walking idly and without her blasted waking stick. Sarah couldn't help but be slightly amused that the Dowager Countess' children only used walking sticks when their Mother was around and she had it straight from Cora that they both did it so it looked like a fashion trend rather than a weakness in the older woman.

"O'Brien! Has Cora given you the afternoon off?"

Sarah clenched the muscle in her jaw that was threatening to sneer.

"No m'lady. I can't seem to find her and I wondered if you had any idea where she might be?"

Rosamund's sense for danger, small though it was given the general air of hedonistic pleasure with which she lived her life, was immediately piqued. Cora was missing – if neither she nor O'Brien knew where the Countess was then nobody would!

"None whatsoever. I saw her this morning after you dressed her and she was in a foul mood and wanted to be left alone. She was being terribly melodramatic so I thought it best to leave her to it - I take it you two still haven't made up?"

She smirked at O'Brien, fully away that Cora's ire had been a result of something O'Brien had done, or rather something she might not have done. Poor O'Brien, sometimes it was rather difficult to read Cora's moods, even for someone as accustomed to them as Rosamund knew herself to be. For her part Sarah resisted the urge to slap the smug face in front of her and dearly wished she was talking to Thomas and could have a damned good moan about whatever it was she was supposed to have done now that had caused Cora to have a face like a slapped fish all morning.

"Like I said I haven't been able to find her."

"Oh I shouldn't worry too much," Rosamund thought of the places Cora might be that O'Brien wouldn't know…the stables perhaps? Cora sometimes liked to sit and watch the foals play. "I'm sure she's off sulking somewhere that you put too much milk in her tea this morning."

Turning Rosamund gestured for O'Brien to follow her, hoping that between the two of them when they found Cora they could cheer her up. Rosamund looked forward to their joint dressing sessions rather a lot in the evening; she had to make do with Gwen in the mornings and though she rather liked the girl there was nothing more amusing than making Cora and O'Brien blush in the evenings whilst she lounged on the bed. Honestly for women in their forties they were rather easy to shock and Cora had been _married_ for over twenty years! At least O'Brien had the excuse of spinsterhood although Rosamund was a firm believer than still waters ran deep and there were more skeletons in her cupboard than Cora's.

Sarah followed after her, fighting the urge to kick the gravel like a sullen child when she realised they were heading for the stables – was Rosamund stupid enough to think she wouldn't have checked there? The young and stumbling horses always made Cora smile but she hadn't been there.

"Pardon me m'lady, but I don't think she'll be outside at all. It's far too late for her ladyship to be walking with his lordship and she seldom goes out on her own. Perhaps," was there _anywhere _she hadn't checked inside…other than the servants quarters…surely not? "She's searching for something in the attic. A dress she didn't like to ask me for?"

Rosamund could see the stables from where they were and there was no Cora to be seen so O'Brien was probably right about her not being outside. But in the _attics_ of all places? Cora had been scared of the very thought of the attics when she'd first arrived and to Rosamund's knowledge her sister-in-law's attitude hadn't changed. She raised an eyebrow at O'Brien, wondering if she'd been mistaken all along and O'Brien didn't know Cora at all. Perhaps it really had been ten years of wild and somehow accurate guesses?

"The attics O'Brien?" She began to walk back to the house, becoming quite enthused by the idea of finding Cora – she's had nothing planned for the afternoon and was getting rather bored - gesturing for O'Brien to stop being silly and walk alongside her so she didn't have to keep craning her neck behind her to speak. "Is that really likely? Even when she's in one of her petulant moods?"

Sarah had to concede that point, but Cora had to be _somewhere_ and the attics were about the only place she hadn't bothered to search. She fell into step with Rosamund, having a funny feeling that if they were seen it was she who was going to get it in the neck, but feeling rather privileged in the moment. Although both the ladies she ended up dressing of an evening had a tendency to be rather over-familiar; perhaps her shock was caused by it being in the light of day and for anyone to see? Rosamund was far from the most subtle of women after all.

"I can't think of anywhere else. Unless she's in one of our bedrooms. The servants that is m'lady."

Had it been said to anyone more inclined to pay attention the slip might have earned her a rebuff, as it was Lady Rosamund instead looked like she was pondering things that Sarah didn't think she wanted to be privy to.

"Lady Rosamund?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you have any suggestions?"

Rosamund's eyes finally fell onto O'Brien again and tried to fathom what had been said to her. Finally she decided that she was the daughter of an Earl and O'Brien was a maid and if either of them were going to repeat themselves it should be the working woman.

"For…Cora's whereabouts?"

"Yes m'lady."

"I supposed we could check the women's bedrooms in the servant's corridor. Somehow I can't see Cora sneaking into any of the footmen's rooms: we'll start with yours. She'd probably feel quite at home if I'm right about the number of things you store in your room."

Sarah looked at her sharply and found she couldn't answer with anything other than a small smile.

"I knew it! I was sure Cora's clothes must have spilled into more rooms than I've found things in and your room was the only one I haven't had a good look around."

Sarah thanked heaven for small mercies and followed the suddenly eager woman back inside, passing only the vaguest of words with Lady Rosamund as they passed through the green baize door and began to ascend the stairs. The comment that Lady Rosamund had done this before died on her lips before it could jeopardize her job: freer and easier than anyone in her family the Earl's sister might be but there had to be limits and Sarah was loathe to find them by trial and error.

They reached her bedroom rather quicker than Sarah thought the other woman would have managed the stairs – apparently Rosamund was in considerably better shape than Cora and another comment died before it caused trouble – and for a moment Sarah didn't want to let her in. If Cora _was_ in there then she wanted to be the one to find her, Rosamund would only spoilt things, but there was nothing she could do and she pushed the door open without ceremony to find an entirely empty room.

"Well…that was something of an anti-climax O'Brien."

Disregarding the fact that finding Cora had been their objective and she wasn't here Rosamund still sailed into her bedroom and plonked herself unceremoniously on the bed. Critical eyes roamed around the room and entering herself before nudging the door shut Sarah met her gaze and dared her to criticise anything.

"I used to _hate_ this room when I was a child. The Housekeeper used to have it – Mama's maid had the room next to hers back then - I bet Cora would prefer that actually! – well, Mama gave the Housekeeper leave to punish Robert and I however she saw fit if we misbehaved as children. Robert was terribly boring and never got in trouble but I spent many a worried moment in this room wondering which bit of the house I would have to help tidy."

Sarah smiled at the thought. Cora had _certainly_ never given Mrs Hughes leave to do such thing, although she suspected that Sybil's influence on the Housekeeper and Mr Carson's preference for Lady Mary would mean Lady Edith alone would suffer under the rule.

"I'm sure she was only doing it because she cared m'lady."

"Mama you mean? Oh I don't know, I don't think she could be all that bothered with me once Robert started to learn about his duties as an Earl. Leaving me to Mrs Molesley-"

"Molesley!"

Sarah's sharply looked up immediately.

"I beg your pardon m'lady, I was just rather surprised."

"Oh don't concern yourself about jumping in O'Brien. I need a maid who'll answer back and as soon as you escape from Cora you're to come straight to me," she grinned as Sarah rolled her eyes minutely. It was a long-running joke that never failed to vex Cora. "And yes, Molesley. Mr Molesley senior had an older sister who used to be the Housekeeper here. I'm surprised you didn't know, you certainly know everything else according to Cora."

Sarah blushed and looked away with a smirk, rather pleased she had cultivated the impression of all-knowingness. She had read in a leaflet once that it was a good trait in a lady's maid…although the same leaflet had said her lady would never, _ever_ deign to allow her maid to see to other women and the contradiction to that was sat on her bloody bed.

"I'm sure Mrs Molesley didn't treat you too harshly."

"No. When I was seventeen the last punishment she ever had me do was help the footman polish the silver."

Knowing Lady Rosamund's talent for charming men Sarah didn't imagine she'd done much work herself.

"I'm sure that was very trying for you m'lady."

"Poor old Charles. Of all my many talents he can tell you first hand that polishing a silver candlestick is not one of them."

The present tense made it easier for Sarah to make the connection than the made did and her eyebrows were nearly in her hairline as Rosamund laughed heartily. Sarah couldn't help but smile at the mirth and imagined a young Mr Carson being thoroughly harassed by a youthful and very insistent redhead: it was definitely an image she would have to fight the next time Carson droned at morning tea.

The laughter had been too loud apparently and there were soon footsteps outside the door; before Sarah could react, and half-hoping it would be Cora somehow having tracked them both down, the door swung open dramatically and Mrs Hughes entered the room. Sarah nearly bit through the inside of her cheek with mirth when it became apparent the older woman was clearly tormented by her desire to chastise O'Brien being stifled by the culprit being Lady Rosamund.

Rosamund laughed harder at the expression on the Housekeeper's face and O'Brien, taking the opportunity with relish, laughed along with the other woman.

"I'm sorry for interrupting you m'lady."

Mrs Hughes skedaddled from the room quicker than Sarah thought her capable of, pulling the door closed behind her, leading to entirely new peals of laughter from Lady Rosamund.

"Oh dear. Is she running to tell my brother on me do you think?"


	3. Chapter 3

**3.**

Cora came back to herself in what she imagined to be utter darkness until the fog in her mind began to clear and she remembered what had happened. Or rather, _who_ had happened and exactly why she was now nursing a sore head and feeling her wrists rub against restraints. She opened her eyes and immediately closed them: the light was brighter than she thought and her sore head was being made worse by the smoke drifting across the room. It was an acrid smell that was much stronger than the familiar scent that O'Brien carried, but she at least had the decency to smell of soap and clothes and nicer things!

She tried to focus again and saw the woman who'd hit her sat casually on the trunk she'd brought over from New York twenty-six years ago now. Vera Bates looked utterly unrepentant and stared down at her with cold grey eyes that made Cora's blood chill: if she'd hit her once god only knew what this woman was capable of if she had already dragged her to the attics! She pulled against the restraints and found herself unable to move much and certainly not away from the beam she was bound to. Damned knots! Why did they have to be so hard? She wriggled on the ground, refusing to acknowledge the other woman just yet and only succeeding in chaffing her wrists more. Whimpering vaguely at the pain and the desperation of the situation she leant her head against the post, looking at Vera Bates with one eye.

"Why are we here?"

Vera took another pointed drag on her cigarette before quite neatly placing it on the ground and prodding it out with the toe of her worn boots.

"It'll only be for a little while m'lady."

The absurdity of the use of her title was not lost on Cora and she scrunched up her face in abject confusion.

"What?"

"Just until they realise you're gone and start to get worried."

"_They?_Mr Bates won't notice I'm gone you foolish woman, it'll only be my husband you're scaring and he'll have you arrested once he finds out!"

She spoke as loudly as her pounding head could stand, hoping against hope that someone, _anyone_, would overhear and come to her rescue. Mrs Bates wasn't that big and Cora doubted she could have carried her too far into the depths of the attic – if only she'd gone walking with Rosamund or hadn't been in such a foul anti-social mood this morning! She'd be safely curled up with her embroidery and her maid would bring her tea and her husband would spend the entire afternoon finding refuge with her so he didn't have to deal with his sister alone and she wouldn't have to go through this terrible ordeal!

She tried to move her gaze away from Vera Bates but found she couldn't manage it for too long. The rest of the room was empty enough that nothing could draw her attention for very long and she didn't think it wise not to keep one eye on the other woman at all times now – she'd already done her worst Cora supposed, but god only knew what she going to do next. She had a feeling appealing to Vera's better nature wouldn't lead to much avail, so far she seemed supremely unperturbed by both Cora's words and her evident fear, looking around the room with casualness that suggested they were midway through afternoon tea. It was a display that Cora couldn't help but think her mother-in-law would be proud of.

"He'll never know it's me-"

"I'll tell him!"

"Not if I sew your mouth up you won't."

Cora felt her blood run cold and tried pulling at the restraints again, desperately wanting to be free – she'd already seen that this woman was capable of violence, she could still _feel_ the last attack but whether it was really possible to sew people's lips together Cora didn't want to find out!

"I wouldn't bother if I were you." She smiled widely and her eyes looked down at the rope almost lovingly. "I tie a good knot."

Cora was, sadly, only too aware of this. She wished someone would come and help her, but her husband was probably somewhere blissfully unaware of what was going on and Cora felt her heart break at the thought that he probably wasn't even missing her. But this was her own fault wasn't it? She'd let Vera into her house and given her the opportunity to clonk her round the head and take her hostage and whatever Vera had planned for her it wouldn't be nearly as bad as feeling as stupid as she did now. She was a grown woman for god's sake and she was tied up in her own damned attic for god knows what reason because she'd been silly enough to trust a stranger. Then again, turning her back on your average stranger didn't usually end with her being knocked out so she supposed there had hardly been a precedent for her to follow.

"Are you going to hurt me?"

"No." Vera furrowed her brow and shook her head with a small smile that implied she was having marvellous ideas about doing quite the opposite. "Why would I do that?"

"Because you're clearly mad."

"Why do people keep saying that? It's getting right bloody annoying now," she sighed and shrugged her shoulder pointedly, utterly unable to comprehend the label. John had said it often enough but then she never had paid much attention to his opinion, after all the daft man was of the opinion that he had seen the last of her so she knew he had a tendency to be dead bloody wrong.

"Oh! I can't imagine _why_."

Cora pulled at her bound hands again but she was already beginning to rub her wrists a little bit raw and with a defeated cry she stopped still. No one was coming, no one could hear her, she was stuck here with Vera Bates and unless someone happened to come in the far reaches of the attic for the winter linens she would be stuck here forever. Or at least until Vera Bates decided that she'd achieved her end. The woman clearly had a screw loose but she'd said she wasn't going to hurt her and whatever else she might have been Cora didn't take her for a liar, although she wasn't overly inclined to think well of her.

"What do you want?"

She sniffled at the end, feeling distinctly pathetic, but unable to stop the terrified tears that were forming.

"Nothing too dramatic, don't fret. I just came here to get something from Johnny that belongs to me."

"What something? Is it money?" Cora's eyes lit up and she pulled at the bonds once more, eager to try and bargain with her captor, if for no other reason than if she got away of her own accord she wouldn't feel quite so pathetic about being captured in the first place. "I can give you much more money that Bates can-"

"It's not that," Vera looked oddly uncomfortable, but for what reason Cora couldn't fathom. Surely talking of _money_ didn't offend her? "He might have money now but it's not worth a thing to me really. I can earn my own money."

"What then?" She swallowed, not sure if she wanted to know but fairly sure that if she kept Vera Bates talking then her chances of being found and saved greatly outweighed the chances of being hit over the head again.

"Something personal."

There was nothing else forthcoming and Vera turned away from her, busying herself idly by walking around the attic – out of the reach of Cora's vaguely kicking feet – and examining the clutter that had gathered there over the last few hundred years. She pulled a picture frame closer with a look of interest.

"Is this an original?"

"Yes! Take it. Sell it, I don't care, just please let me go. I don't see what-"

She was cut off by Vera lifting a finger to silence her. It was the gesture of a schoolmarm and Cora felt embarrassed that she had responded to it so pliantly but she had never been able to resist doing what she was told, even if she seethed inside at being controlled.

"Come on Lady Grantham, stop that now," she smiled as though they were friends, as though anything about the situation could denote friendliness. "I'm not goin' to nick something and run am I, if I wanted to do that why would I have bothered carting you all the way up here?" She let the frame fall back into place against the wall and sighed. "It's something much more unique."

She looked into a distance that was not there and Cora furrowed her brow and tried to turn her head to see if there was actually something on the far wall that was distracting the other woman so. Perhaps it was a clue? She felt her neck ache and gave up, resting her head on her outstretched arms and letting another tear of defeat fall.

"I'll leave you to it for a bit, let you get used to the attic."

Cora's head shot up and her eyes went wide, staring at the other woman in fear. She didn't like being in the other woman's company but she'd had a dreadful fear of this attic ever since she'd first arrived at Downton and the thought of being left alone in it was more horrifying than being locked in with twenty Vera Bates'.

"On my own?"

"Well," Vera looked rather gleeful all of a sudden. "I suppose there must be spiders and moths up here so not entirely on your own."

Cora squeaked quietly and shuffled on the ground as though she could feel them on her.

"Please don't leave me."

"Oh don't look so tortured, I won't be long."

Vera stood up and carefully opened the attic door, slipping her head around the frame to make sure no one was coming before opening it fully and taking a step out of the draughty attic. Cora tried to pull at her restrains again, lurching forwards a minute amount in her attempt to move.

"Please!"

"I'm going to have to go downstairs at some point m'lady, unless you want us both to starve to death up here?"

"You're fetching food?"

"Of course I am. I've not had a proper meal in a good long while and I'm not going to pass up the opportunity whilst I'm in your lovely house to sample the produce."

"You can have all the food you like just let me go!"

"No," she rolled her eyes, bored of saying it now, why didn't these gentry ever bloody listen? "I'll be back, don't you worry." Her eyes moved over Cora rapidly. "I'll bring something to put on your wrists, you're going to rub them raw at that rate."

With that Vera slipped out of the attic and closed the door securely before Cora could reply. She struggled against the ropes again but was unsurprised when it did nothing but make her already sore wrists feel worse. Vera was right, they were already painful and were only going to get worse, but what else could she do but struggle and hope to god someone found her. It was unlikely: no one ever came to this part of the house unless they had good reason and unless her husband decided he desperately needed something from his stored away winter wardrobe nobody was likely to arrive. The door was too far away from the family rooms for her cries to be heard and though she might stand a chance of being heard by the servants it would only save her if they were all helpfully silent as the grave for however long it took one of them to recognise where the minute and distant sound was coming from. No, it seemed her liberty would be based entirely upon Vera Bates getting exactly what she wanted but whatever that was Cora had no idea. It surely couldn't be anything so extreme that Robert wouldn't be able to give it to her surely? She'd said she didn't want money but perhaps she didn't realise quite how vast their resources were? But no, there had to be a link to Mr Bates or else her appearance was a very cruel coincidence, but what on earth had he taken to make his wife go to this trouble to achieve her revenge?

Cora continued to make noise in vain – she preferred the noise to the chilling silence of the attic despite her still throbbing head – in the faint hope that one of the servants had wondered somewhere they shouldn't and would save her.


End file.
